161: entering the age

contented? the rooftops angle and pitch all different colors of siding ancient and renewed rain plinks then departs a mirage on the hot asphalt small swirls of cigarette butts refuse a plastic bag skutters along neighboring mower drone I sit and see it all small tears...

160: pulling his chair inside

locking it up and closing the door this tells the time antique man across the street a metronome to the rhythm of the day his ambling walk growing closer to the ground this is part of a story 7 years, one place.

159:***

sitting for 20 minutes in one place have you realized maples when the leaves are full in summer and a good wind blows warning of a storm their undersides turn upwards silver telling a whole other story.

158: it simply is

place a word on the table there beside the key you thought you’d lost there all along to open the box you were ready to discard stay close to the texture of its uplift and swirl each letter ripe under your fingertips this is so like what the sun is to the lily...

157: to what do I owe the philodendron

standing tall there atop the dresser beside the window shaken gently as I open close open close the drawers not worried by the tremors leaves shimmering winter sun cascades low through the clear window glass evergreen inside...